


Dare

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Drinking, M/M, Minor Canonical Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 14:59:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2154858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, Stiles doesn’t know whether he wants to kiss Scott and Erica or kill them for getting him into this .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dare

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: iodt - “stiles/derek - one asks out the other as a dare and it backfires” (loosely interpreted, y’all know how I do)

They’re at a bar that’s walking distance from the dorms.

It’s their usual bar, the kind of place where the bartenders start uncapping bottles when they see Scott’s red and white hoodie pass by the bouncer and the karaoke lady always queues up their songs without asking them if they’re going to get wasted and sing their hearts out again before the night’s local talent takes the stage.

It’s their usual bar, but what happens on the Friday after midterms is anything but.

Scott splurges on drinks, buying a bottle of tequila for the table instead of sticking to Corona for himself and Kira, and from the second that Patron hits Stiles’ glass, things start to get out of control.

"We should play truth or dare," Erica says with a wide grin already on her face as she taps her manicured nails on the side of her glass. She’s Kira’s best friend as well as her polar opposite, the devil on her shoulder the same way that Stiles is with Scott. It’s little wonder that they get along as well as they do.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Truth or dare,” he repeats. “What are we, twelve?”

Erica’s kohl-lined eyes narrow into a glare. “What are  _you_? A chicken?”

Oh.

The words get Stiles right in the chest and he sets down his chunky glass so that he can jab his index finger in Erica’s direction. “How dare you,” he hisses, unsure whether he’s really offended but just buzzed enough to get a kick out of complaining. “I’ll have you know that I am so  _not_  a chicken. Take that back, missy.”

Erica snorts. She freaking snorts.

"Oh yeah?" Erica says. "Prove it. Play the game or start clucking."

Erica’s goading is why, not even ten minutes later, Stiles finds himself pushing through the crowded bar on his way to the far side of the room and what has to be the actual hottest guy there. The dare is simple enough, one of the ones that he and Scott have been using on each other since they were old enough to want to kiss anyone without it being all gross and weird.

All Stiles has to do is get a working phone number from the hottest guy in the bar. Kisses are extra points, but the guy’s phone number is the main goal.

It’s too bad for Stiles, though, that the hottest guy at the bar looks like he could bench press Stiles in his sleep and still come out of it smelling like roses.

But damn if he isn’t hot enough to make Stiles feel like sweating. He’s of a height with Stiles and has hair just as dark, but that’s as far as similarities go with them. The guy is broad shouldered where Stiles is lean, narrow face darkened where stubble where Stiles has pretty much promised his soul to Satan if he can grow more than a scraggly beard during finals week.

In a word, the guy is gorgeous.

And kind of scary, considering how he’s been glaring at everyone as though he doesn’t want to be there in the first place. But when Stiles thinks of how much more humiliating Erica’s punishment will be if he fails to go through with the dare, he has to admit that nothing and no one is as scary as that possibility.

So Stiles sidles up to the guy doing his best to hold up the wall, hooks his fingers in the front two belt loops in a way that draws his jeans down just enough to be tempting. And it works, the guy’s eyes flick downward before he does anything else, gaze lingering on the strip of skin exposed by that gesture before he drags his eyes up to Stiles’ face.

Oh.

 _Damn_.

"Geez, you’re hot," Stiles hears himself say as the guy in front of him gives him a heavy onceover. He stammers out an apology a moment later when one thick eyebrow lifts in question. "I-I’m sorry. I-I mean, well… you  _are_. But that’s not why I’m here —” He pauses. “Except yeah… yeah it is.”

Instead of rolling his eyes or telling Stiles to fuck off, the guy just licks his thin lips.

"You think I’m hot," he says, long lashed eyes widening as though he doesn’t have half the bar swooning just by his breathing in and out.

Stiles doesn’t waste a second.

"Oh my god, yes," he breathes, daring to reach out and lay one hand flat against the man’s firm chest. Through his gray Henley, Stiles can feel the steady pulse of his heartbeat underneath his fingers before he pulls back. "You really are."

The man in front of Stiles smiles slightly (and boy is it unfair that he can get even hotter just from that) and crosses his arms over his ridiculously built chest.

"I’m Derek," he says, still smiling. "And you are?"

"A little bit in love with you," Stiles suggests helpfully before he remembers himself and feels a blush burn in his cheeks. "And um, Stiles. I’m Stiles." He tries for a smile that isn’t quite as dopey as he wants it to be.

Derek’s eyes darken. “Well, Stiles,” he says, voice quiet enough that Stiles has to lean forward to hear him. “Wanna get out of here?”

"Oh god yes," Stiles blurts out. "My dorm is literally ten minutes away." But then he pauses and glances back at the table where his friends aren’t even bothering to hide the fact that they’re there cheering him on. "But maybe I should let my friends know I’m heading out just in case —"

"Just in case I’m an axe murderer," Derek says with another one of those quick smiles that hits Stiles hard. "I get it." He motions for Stiles to go back to his friends. "Go. I’ll wait for you by the front door."

Forget the dare. Forget whatever weird ass punishment Erica will inflict on him because he’s skipping over the digits part and straight to the part where he gets to do something ridiculous with a guy hot enough to provide him with spank bank material for the rest of his life.

Forget all of that because Stiles is going to get so laid tonight.


End file.
